woe is me
by PrincessSmuttButt
Summary: In the middle of the night and the darkness of their home, Sion asks Nezumi to act for him. To finish the scene from "Hamlet" that he was never able to do on stage. But as the night grows darker and their bodies grow warmer, Nezumi and Sion are inevitably drawn together in a hurricane of passion, desire, and love.


**i absolutely ADORE this couple. No. 6 really messed with me as i kept waiting for this scene to happen...**

 **but it never did -siiiiighhhh-**

 **so**

 **i made it happen myself MWAHAHA**

 **not exactly sure WHEN this scene is supposed to happen chronologically but HEY whatever**

 **enjoy the smut**

* * *

woe is me

He lay on his side in bed, head crushed against a pillow with an open book in front of his face. The room was quiet, except for his breathing. And the breathing of the one other person in the room. Who was sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath him, staring straight ahead and drinking a cup of tea. He glanced up from his book at him, looked at him for just a moment, and then went back to reading. There was an orange glow in the room that touched everything, set shadows against the wall, made it hard to see the words in the books sometimes. There were no windows, after all. But even if there were, it was the middle of the night. And moonlight was useless for reading.

"Hey, Nezumi?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you reading?"

Nezumi looked up from his book again, but did not move from his position. Sion was still staring straight ahead, as if there were something so unbelievably interesting on the table there. He held the cup of tea with both hands while steam floated up from its surface.

" _Hamlet_."

"Again?"

Nezumi didn't answer. He just kept reading. But he wasn't taking in any of the words.

"Nezumi?"

"What?" he sighed.

"Would you finish it for me?" Sion asked.

"Finish what."

"Your monologue. From the play the other day...I never got to see you finish it."

Nezumi put his book down and smirked. "What, you think a high-class actor like me will just do it whenever you want?"

Sion finally looked over, his expression calm and serene and not joking at all. His red eyes sparkled and his lips turned up into the softest smile. A very specific smile, one that only he could manage. It was a smile that Nezumi saw when he closed his eyes, and wanted to see when he opened his eyes, too.

"Will you do it? Please, Nezumi?" he said gently. Nezumi scoffed, pursed his lips, but sat up. He started to retie his hair, because it had gone awry from his position on the bed, but Sion interrupted him. "No, don't tie it. Leave it down. That's how it was in the play, wasn't it?"

Nezumi paused for a few seconds and just stared, blinked, unsure of how to react. Sion always had a way of silencing him, of making him furrow his brow and wonder what he had managed to get himself into. Finally, he shrugged and let his hair fall down, just past his shoulders. The way he did when he was sleeping, or when he was taking on the role of a woman in a play. Sion adjusted his position so that he was facing him, took a sip of his tea, and curled up some more. Surrounded by bookshelves and run-down walls and strange, robotic rats. Nezumi took a deep breath and smiled at Sion a little bit. Just barely. Before he began his monologue.

"O, what a noble mind here is o'erthrown!" he began. From memory. It was a role he had been practicing for weeks. He put his hand to his forehead, furrowed his brow, tried to conjure despair within himself. Sion watched with a completely immersed expression of wide eyes and slightly parted lips. "The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; the expectancy and rose of the fair state, the glass of fashion and the mould of form, the observed of all observers, quite, quite down!"

He began moving around the room, looking up at the imaginary skies and clenching his fists. He imagined himself on the stage—no, imagined himself as Ophelia herself. Rejected by her lover, falling into despair as the world around her crumbles. He closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth. Raised his arms up.

"And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, that suck'd the honey of his music vows, now see that noble and most sovereign reason, like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh..." He fell to his knees and, in the heat of his acting, glanced at Sion. He was leaning forward in his seat, gripping his tea more tightly, eyebrows raised and eyes even wider. "That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth blasted with ecstasy..."

He paused.

"O, woe is me! To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!"

He curled up on the ground, let his fists crash to the ground, felt his hair falling around his face. He lay in that position for a few moments, relishing in the adrenaline pulsing through him. The same adrenaline from fighting, from acting. The adrenaline of passion.

He heard a clapping noise, and looked up to see that Sion had stood up and was clapping vehemently, a smile on his features. He was nearly bouncing. Nezumi smiled and stood up, gave a flashy and overdramatic bow.

"You're too kind," he said.

"That was fantastic, Nezumi!" he cried. "You really are amazing!"

Nezumi shrugged and fell back down on the bed, tucking his leg beneath him. He picked up his copy of _Hamlet_ , closed it, and tossed it onto the table.

"I mean it. More people should be able to see you," Sion continued. He came over and sat on the bed next to Nezumi, that perpetual smile on his lips. Nezumi leaned back against the wall, put his hands behind his head, stared up at the ceiling. He didn't bother dealing with his hair.

"I don't really care about that," he said, closing his eyes. "I do it to do it. Not so people see me."

"You're talented, Nezumi," Sion repeated. Nezumi opened one of his eyes and saw Sion there beside him, watching with an eager grin and a glitter in his eyes. His white hair had a nice way of shining in the lamp light. "I wish I had something like that. A talent."

"Why do you say that?" Nezumi said. "It's nothing special."

"But it is!" he insisted. He leaned forward but, suddenly, his face fell. Nezumi opened his other eye and furrowed his brow. "I...I wish you didn't have to hide all the time."

"Hide?"

"Out here. Where nobody can see how good you are at acting..."

When Nezumi saw the tears in Sion's eyes, he knew that this wasn't just about the acting. This was about something much bigger. And as much as he tried to tell himself not to, to hold himself back, he leaned forward and brought his hand to Sion's cheek. The side where the red scar had made its home. With a stony expression, he wiped the tear that slipped from the corner of his eye. Sion looked up at him in surprise.

"What're you crying for?" Nezumi sighed. "Stop that."

"I-I'm sorry. I guess I don't know why I'm crying," he laughed dryly, wiped the tears from his other eye. But even as they began to dry, Nezumi didn't move his hand away. He stroked his cheek, his scar, the corner of his eye, with his thumb.

"I'm such a bother," Sion smiled. "Sorry."

"Just don't cry, all right?" Nezumi said. His voice had dropped lower, and he had begun unconsciously leaning forward. His eyes fell upon Sion's lips. They were quivering just slightly, parted. They looked very innocent and pure—so unlike the way Nezumi's looked when he happened to catch his reflection. Sion looked down at his hands, clasped there in his lap, and his entire body trembled a little bit. And Nezumi really couldn't see him like that.

"Hey. Stop that." He gently put his fingers beneath Sion's chin and lifted his face up.

"S-sorry..."

"And stop apologizing."

Sion was silent, but there was a hint of a smile on his quivering lips. Lips that Nezumi had not stopped looking at for too long now. He moved a little bit closer, feeling the warmth of Sion's presence there, wanting it to be nearer to him. Closer and closer, happening so suddenly and out of his control. Then he could feel Sion's breath on his lips, and it was warm. Welcoming. Nezumi pressed his lips lightly to Sion's.

The kiss was only for a moment. His fingers were still there beneath Sion's chin, tender and guiding. He pulled away, glanced at Sion's face for a moment. His eyes were closed, the tears gone, and the trembling had stopped. Nezumi felt a sensation rush through his body, a sensation of desire and happiness and of wanting to see Sion happy, too.

He kissed him again, put his palm against his cheek, pressed his lips tighter. Sion opened his mouth a bit more, tilted his head, leaned forward. Nezumi lifted his other hand and ran his fingers through the white, shimmering tendrils of his hair, and then he paused. Let his lips hover there above Sion's parted ones, let their breath mingle. His thumb began stroking Sion's lower lip, softly, feeling him breathe out more heavily. And suddenly there was so much desire within him that he could control himself no longer. He slid his tongue between Sion's lips and pulled him closer, until he felt Sion reach up and lay his hands on Nezumi's chest. But it wasn't enough. Nezumi moved his tongue along the inner edge of Sion's lips, so soft and inviting, breathed out as heavily as he could into him, grabbed his face more tightly and held him. Kissed him like that, tongue and breath and hair and sweat intertwining, Sion responding so beautifully to him. He grabbed Nezumi's shirt more tightly and pulled him, opened his mouth to welcome him, let out the softest, quietest, most discreet moan. But it sent Nezumi over the edge.

He pushed Sion down onto the bed and clambered on top, his hands on either side of Sion's head. Sion's red eyes were open now and looking up at him in surprise, his body completely still on the bed.

"Nezumi, I—"

"I wish you would just stop talking," Nezumi sighed. He touched Sion's scar again, fixed the tangles in his hair while his own wild, blue hair fell down and grazed Sion's face. They paused there for a moment, in complete silence, before Nezumi leaned down and kissed him again. He pressed his chest against Sion's and, because his legs were slightly separated, slipped his in between. He felt Sion's arms wrap around his torso and grab his shirt, so tightly that he could feel his fingers through the cloth. So he leaned against Sion more heavily and pulled away, brought his lips down to his ear. When he breathed out, let his tongue graze the outer edge of his ear just slightly, he felt Sion shiver beneath him.

"Relax," he murmured into his ear. He heard Sion's breath then, heavy, as his grip loosened and his muscles relaxed. "There you go."

He sat up then, his legs on either side of Sion's body. Sion's head was leaned back slightly against the pillow, his lips parted, his hair curling wildly around his face. Nezumi looked at him there and felt a pull deep inside his soul, a fiery heat spreading through his body. When Sion's eyes fluttered open, Nezumi pulled his green shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Then, he lifted up Sion's hands and placed them onto his bare chest. When he let go, Sion kept them there. Let his fingers trace the muscles of his chest, hovering like butterflies. He leaned down and kissed him again, and pressed his hips up. Beneath his lips, he felt Sion's open more widely and heard him whimper, and bit Sion's lower lip, brought his fingers down to the first button of his sweater. He undid it, still kissing Sion desperately. Sion's hands were up around him again, his hands pressed to his bare back, softly pulling his body down against his.

After he undid two buttons, Nezumi moved his lips down to Sion's neck, and pressed his tongue heavily against the tender, red skin there. Sion's muscles relaxed even more and Nezumi could see his eyelids flutter, could see the breath falling desperately from his open lips. He made circles with his tongue, pressed his lips there, undid the buttons with his experienced and nimble fingers. Once he reached the hem of the sweater, he slipped his hand beneath Sion's shirt and moved his fingers up his chest. Then, slowly, gently, he pulled the shirt and sweater over Sion's head and let them fall to the ground, too. He could move his hands freely along Sion's bare, scarred chest now, could truly feel his skin beneath his. He moved his lips, trailing a path with his tongue, down to the center of Sion's chest. His body rose up in response, his fingers moving along Nezumi's back. Nezumi kissed his chest then, his hands pressed to Sion's hips, his breath falling against his skin.

"Nezumi..."

He slipped one of his hands lower, swiftly undid the button of Sion's pants, and fell beneath them. As his hand moved even lower, he glanced up and saw Sion's eyes open wide and heard him gasp, felt his fingers move to Nezumi's head and grasp the hair there desperately. Lower and lower...

"Ah!"

Nezumi grabbed him gently, laughed against his quivering skin. Sion gripped the tendrils of his hair, his back arched, his eyes closed and his mouth open in crazed pleasure. Nezumi wanted to hear him moan louder. He moved his hand up and down, slowly and gently at first, and heard his whimpers and his heavy gasps.

"Relax..." he repeated, his lips still there on his skin.

He gripped a little bit more tightly, moved his hand a little bit more quickly. Sion's body responded even more, arched up and fell back down, his exclamations lifting into the air. Nezumi kept moving his hand like that, gradually growing faster, while he smiled against Sion's skin. Sion leaned his head back and cried out, his eyelids fluttering and fingers gripping Nezumi's head more tightly.

He took Sion right to the edge. When he lifted his hand, he felt Sion's body fall back against the bed, felt his grip loosen, his breathing become more ragged and even. Nezumi wiped his hand on a nearby sheet and slowly moved back up, until his face was up above Sion's again. His eyes were open, but only slightly, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks softly. His lips were parted, just enough that Nezumi could see his tongue there.

"Nezumi," he said, and lifted his hand up to Nezumi's cheek. The warmth of that touch made his body crumble, and he closed his eyes and leaned his face into Sion's palm. Then he let himself fall forward and press his forehead against Sion's. They were so close, and Nezumi couldn't think of a moment that he had been happier. Happier than he was then, in Sion's arms, feeling him and tasting him and being so close to him. The tips of their noses brushed, lips so close that their edges grazed one another. This time, Sion stretched out his tongue, just until it touched Nezumi's lower lip. Nezumi leaned forward and took him into his kiss, watched his eyes flutter and then close. Felt his arms wrap around his neck and hold him. They were chest to chest now, Sion's arms wrapped around him, their tongues dancing between their heavily pressed lips.

Sion's lips were so soft, and he tasted like flowers. Nezumi breathed him in as deeply as he could, felt the pleasure pulsing through his body and shivering from its power. He could feel his hair matting to his face from the sweat, while Sion's fingers moved there like fire on his neck.

"Nezumi," Sion murmured, his voice muffled between Nezumi's desperate kisses. "Stop for a second."

"Hmm?" Nezumi pulled back and saw the expression on Sion's face. It was an expression of pure happiness. His smile was light and pure, his wet lips upturned, and his eyes were swimming with tears. "Sion...?"

Nezumi sat up. He was confused about why Sion had stopped, why he was looking up so sadly like that, why there were tears in his eyes. Sion sniffled softly and pulled his legs out from underneath Nezumi, and sat up, too. They were both sitting on their knees, staring at each other, bare-chested and red-faced and breathing heavily. And both as hard as metal. Nezumi narrowed his eyes, still disoriented. His heart would not stop pounding. Sion reached up and held his face in both hands, stroked his cheeks.

"What are you...?"

"I just don't want to forget this moment," Sion whispered. It took Nezumi by surprise. He blinked a few times, unable to even respond to Sion's touch. He had never expected him to say something like that. "You're so beautiful right now, and I don't want to forget."

Sion leaned forward on his knees and touched his lips softly, so softly, to Nezumi's. Nezumi still couldn't move. Couldn't even close his eyes. Sion kissed him so strangely, letting his lips linger there. Then he kissed Nezumi's forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his jawbone, put his hands on Nezumi's shoulders and kissed his neck. Nezumi tried to relax, leaned his head back and just breathed out. He reached up and put his fingers around Sion's wrists, which were sitting on his shoulders.

"I don't ever want to forget this."

Nezumi felt desire pulsing through him as he felt Sion's tongue on his skin. His grip on Sion's wrists tightened, his jaw clenched, his skin as hot as fire. As he lowered his head, Sion was there to meet him with a kiss, this time hard and passionate. They fit so perfectly together. Beneath Sion's lips, Nezumi smiled, teased him, and then pushed him harshly back onto the bed. But Sion didn't resist. He didn't resist when Nezumi pulled his pants off, and then stepped out of his own. Didn't resist when Nezumi's hands began to explore every part of his body—his lips, his chest, his stomach, his legs, every inch of him. Sion released himself to the pleasure and responded the way Nezumi wanted him to. Kissed him back just as hard, moaned, breathed out like an animal.

They were both naked now. Nezumi sat up and took a moment to just look at Sion. There beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets of the bed, body quivering and open lips trembling. But in that moment that he paused, Sion took a deep breath and said, "Why did you stop? Keep going."

When they were done, both panting and flushed and struggling to catch their breath, Nezumi fell down onto the bed beside him. They touched foreheads and linked their fingers together, just sat in silence with their elated, naked bodies and heavy breaths. Nezumi opened his eyes to look at Sion's face. He looked peaceful, his cheeks red and his eyes closed and his lips in a smile. Nezumi reached up and touched Sion's eyelids, lightly. Then he traced the outline of his lips, touched the red scar. Sion kept his eyes closed, but smiled more widely at Nezumi's touch. Nezumi leaned forward and kissed him again, let his tongue graze his lower lip as he pulled away. Then, Sion curled up into his chest and, knowing exactly what Sion wanted, Nezumi wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in closer. He kissed the top of Sion's head, then his forehead. Felt more happiness than he had ever felt before when Sion curled up more tightly and pressed his lips to Nezumi's chest. So, so gently.

"O, woe is me," Nezumi murmured, "to have seen what I have seen, see what I see."

Then he sang Sion to sleep.


End file.
